


And Not a Mere Device

by rejected (surskitty)



Category: Reborn!
Genre: Crack, Gen, Giant Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surskitty/pseuds/rejected
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone loves cyborgs, right?</p><p>Mild AU, peripheral spoilers for up to chapter 245 or so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Not a Mere Device

He can't move.  That's the first thing he thinks, and it's kind of funny, isn't it.  Him, reduced to... this.  At least he won.  (And he did win; there is no way he could have lost.  For he is _Byakuran_, and he will obliterate all that stands in his way --)  
   
Giggling faintly (_fufufu_), he glances down.  "Sho-chan~" he says into a hidden microphone, "I think I might need a medic."  
   
"Byakuran-san?!"    
   
He can guess that the underling is freaking out, possibly collapsing, so he decides to make it simpler: "So, would you mind calling one?  I would hate to have to do it myself...!"  
   
"Aah, um, immediately!"  He hears the soft click of Irie actually hanging up instead of waiting for his explicit permission, and smiles faintly.  At least the kid is useful, even if he is -- well.     
   
Byakuran waits for a few seconds, then makes his own calls.  If he finally decided to show his teeth, Irie'd find out that Byakuran prepared.  He didn't think it would matter, though; the kid lacked in determination to use any opportunity that he didn't make himself.  It's safer, that way, but... predictable.  
   
And besides: if the idiots took too long, he could get _prosthetic limbs that shoot missiles_ and that would be the third most amazing thing ever*.  
   
   
As it turned out, his legs could easily be saved -- apparently either the Vongola had not perfected their own giant robots or the Mist Guardian had grown soft and merely used a refrigerator -- but that would ignore a _glorious opportunity_.  And so --  
   
"Sho-chan~!"  
   
"Yes, Byakuran-san?" the unlucky assistant said.  
   
"I want robot legs."  
   
"... pardon?"  He blinked.  
   
"I want _robot legs_.  Ones that shoot missiles! You can do that, of course?"  
   
He looked like he wanted to cry.  Or die; one of the two, anyway, and Byakuran would be happy to oblige if he wasn't so useful.  And adorable, can't forget that.  Also funny!  All important traits in a secretary/direct-underling/pet-enemy-spy.  
   
"I'd be... honoured to?" Irie mumbled.  
   
"You could even ask your Black Spell friend!  And make it a friendly competition, yes?"  
   
The engineer looked stunned; Byakuran resisted the urge to pat him on the head and give him a biscuit.  Irie resisted the urge to break down sobbing.  
   
   
* Behind, of course, turning into a Final Fantasy villain and breaking a record for form changes, and receiving weapons and FTL space travel from aliens.  Awesomest things ever.  And then he could have his own video game series...!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't particularly like the tone shifts, but I don't really want to fix it, either. Ah well.


End file.
